


Sing me to an(endless) sleep

by Iwanttotouchthebutt



Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Asshole Derek, Asshole Scott, Depressed Stiles, M/M, Nemeton, Nogitsune, Oblivious Sheriff, Out of Character Peter, Peter doesn't no what consent is, Self Harm, Suicide, attempted suicide, creepy Peter, creepy tree, possible triggers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-05
Updated: 2016-06-20
Packaged: 2018-06-06 11:12:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 3,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6751654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iwanttotouchthebutt/pseuds/Iwanttotouchthebutt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On Stiles and Derek's third year anivesairy Stiles is all alone.<br/>Derek breaks up with him, Scott won't talk to him and because Scott's the alpha neither will the pack, his dad is on a business trip and all he's got is a glock and a razor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lay me down to sleep

Stiles was sitting on his bed, holding a razor in his right hand and his father's sheriff gun in the other.  
His father wouldn't be home for a week, business meeting.  
Scott blamed him for Donovan and was mad at him for not trusting Theo, Kira, of course followed along with Scott as did the rest of the pack.  
And Derek...Derek had ended their three year relationship on their anivesairy, nor that Derek probably noticed, the main reason the elder man had been in it was for the free sex.  
Stiles sniffed and closed his fist around the razor before bringing his hand to his face and wiping away the tears that had been streaming down his cheeks for about half an hour.  
He had...he wanted..he had wanted to die, so many times over the past few years, but he had his father or Scott or Derek or the rest of the pack to help him stick around, now....  
Now he had no one.  
...no one except his saddness, his razor and his dad's gun.

He opened his fis, studying it for a moment before pulling up his sleeves, revealing hundreds of scars left from this very blade.  
If you looked at the razor you'd think it was rusty, really it was just Stiles old dried blood.  
He brought the razor to the side of his wrist, he wasn't planning on walking out of this, he didn't have to hide his cuts, he could put then wherever he fucking wanted.  
He dragged the razor up, not feeling the pain until he pulled the blade away, a sharp sting.  
He smiled, watching the blood pool up and start trickling down his sleeve.  
He licked it off before taking off his two layers of plaid and a black shirt he was pretty sure belonged to Derek, it was too big.  
Looking down at his stomach he looked at the scars on his stomach, before brushing a hand over his ribs where they protruded, he hasn't been eating or sleeping much lately, all that mattered was Derek and the pack, all that mattered was Derek and the pack, all that mattered was Derek and the pack, allthatmatteredwasDerekandthepack, ALL THAT MATTERED HAD LEFT HIM!  
He let out an angry yell as he brought the blade to his chest, carving any flesh he could reach, before going back to his arms.  
He slashed and carved like a mad man, blood running down his arms, covering his hands, getting on the sheets....  
He dropped the razor on the floor and grabbed his head, yanking angrily on his hair as he cried louder then he had since he learned his mom would never come back from the hospital.  
He whipped his eyes and lay down, and with that. ...he went to sleep.


	2. wake me up (inside)

Peter had his hand shoved in his pockets, whistling a cheery tune when he passed the Stilinski household.  
He froze when he smelled the scent of blood, anguish, saddness and pain.  
Turning to stare at the house he heard a faint heart beat.  
He ran to the side of the house, climbing up quickly as he opened the Stillinski boys window, foolish child hardly ever had it locked.  
When the window opened his nostrils flared at how much the house reeked of emotions and blood.  
"Stiles?" He called. "I hope you didn't kill anyone else!" He knew that was a low blow but, alas, that was gis....'thing'.  
When he received no response he jumped in.  
"Stiiiiiles!" He sang out looking around the room before seeing a form laying on the bed covered in blood.  
"What a pity..." he mumbled stepping closer studying the body. It obviously was a boy, a very skinny boy, a disturbingly skinny boy, with slashes all over his stomach and torso.  
"Oh dear...you are a loss...." he looked up, gasping when he saw the face, Stiles.  
It was Stiles.

Stiles, the boy Peter hadn't seen on ages but had missed terribly, Stiles the boy who was always smiling and always talking.

Well he wasn't talking now.

"Stiles?!" He exclaimed, slapping the boys face gently receiving no response.

"Stiles, please, it's time to wake up, you must wake up!" Maybe a monster had gotten a hold of Stiles? There was no way Stiles would have done this to himself! 

"Stiles!" Peter roared in his face, smiling triumphantly when the boy stirred slightly.

"Stiles, I guess you finally get to see where I live."   
And with that Peter whisked Stiles away.


	3. Suprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter has Stiles, Peter likes Stiles, Peter knows things nobody else does.  
> Derek ends up in Stiles room and Scott's an ass.

"Little nephew"   
Derek growled when he heard his uncles voice, taunting as usual over the phone.  
"What do you want, Peter?" He growled.  
"I want you to go to the Stillinski boys room, see what I have just seen."  
"What?" Derek said confused.  
"Humans, such fragile little things, especially when they get thrown out of their pack, broken up with an left all alone..." Peter crooned.  
"Peter?! What are you-" he was cut off as his uncle hung up on him.  
Shoving his phone into his pocket and grabbing his jacket he ran out of the loft.  
Barely three minutes later he was in Stiles room.  
Stiles room that stank of saddness, guilt, fear, anger, tears and worst of all blood.  
Huge amounts of blood.  
He spotted bloody plaid on the bed, a razor and a glock.   
Where was Stiles? Peter said he'd been here...WHERE WAS STILES?!  
He reached into his phone and dialed Peter, getting no response, next he called Scott.  
"Derek, what's wrong?"   
"Is Stiles with you?" Derek growled out.  
"Derek...he killed-"  
"IS STILES WITH YOU?!"   
"No, he's not allowed here. Why?"   
"I'm in his room and its...it's a mess, there's blood everywhere."  
"...do you think he killed someone?"  
Derek's eyes flashed red when Scott said that. "It's his own! I think...I think he may have killed himself."   
"...what?" Scott's voice was weak.  
"There's a bloody razor and a glock here, there's enough blood on this bed...but...his body isn't here, I think Peter may have done something."   
"You think Peter killed him?"  
"No...the scent here...its....if Stiles is dead...he did it himself."  
"I'll be at Stiles in a few minutes, ok?"   
Derek hung up the phone, shoving it back into his pocket.  
Scott crawled in through the window a few minutes later, his eyes watering from the smells in the room.  
"Oh god...Derek..." he said when he saw the bed  
"I know."   
"We...we have to..what if Stiles is still alive?!" Scott exclaimed, his eyes wide in panic.  
"That's what we're going to find out." Derek said pulling his phone out again and calling Peter, this time leaving a message.  
"We will find you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...how do you like (or not) this so far?   
> I know, the last line is so dramatic...meh, didn't care, sick, it's effecting my emotions and good writing abilities, turning everything to shit.


	4. Sometimes death seems better then the migraine in my head...

He woke with a scream.   
Well...more like a very high pitched whimper but...you know what, just don't judge.   
So, he woke with a scream and terrible pains coming from his tomach, his arms, legs and bladder.  
Yes lady's gents and non binarys, his body hated him and decided that it just had to pee.  
He tried, he really did, he struggled to get up for about ten minutes before realizing it was hopeless.  
He snuffled and tried to hold back tears as he realized that jot only had he been unable to kill himself but now he was gonna piss himself.   
Just as a tear almost escaped his eye someone rested a hand on his shoulder.  
"Wha...?" He raped out, confused, his eye sight was blurry.  
"Who actually..." A familiar and ever Pervy voice said.  
"Pe'o wo'f..." he mumbled.  
"I'm sorry, Stiles, could you maybe repeat that in english?" The sadistic werewolf said, a predatory smirk on his lips.  
Stiles only response was another aborted move towards the bathroom.   
"Do you need to use the bathroom?"  
Stiles jerked his head, trying to convey that yes, he fucking did and if he didn't soon he would pee all over Peter, consequences be damned.   
"That doesn't surprise me...touve been asleep for quite sometime after you pulled that stunt with a blade..." The former Alpha sighed and trailed a finger over the young Stilinskis chest, down the the button of his jeans.  
"I've always found you quite attractive, I'm glad that I found you before Derek or Scott...." he unbottoned the button. "Not that I think they would have cares anyways, after all....didn't you kill Alison?"   
Stiles squeezed his eyes shut, he knew what Peter wanted but he wouldn't let the man see him cry.   
"You killed Scott's mate, why would he care about you? He probably wishes you had died when the Nogitsune possessed you...I know Derek does...the annoying weak human." He pulled the zipper down. "But that's nor how I see you, Stiles...no..." he crooned as he pulled Stiles pants below his hips. "I think your amazing..." he poked a small hole on Stiles underwear narrowly missing his genitals "Smart..." he used that hole to make a bigger one. "Funny..." at this point there was a solid tear in Stiles favorite Batman boxers. "Good, I'd never push you aside for some girl..." he said the last word with a growl as Stiles genitals were revealed and the younger boy whimpered.   
"Hush..." Peter soothed, bringing his head to Stiles. "It's ok, baby boy, daddy will take care of you...don't worry....shhh..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I've said this a lot but I need people to tell me where they want this story to go...or I need people to give me angst ridden songs, kay?  
> And y'all know I stole the title from twenty one pilots, migraine.


	5. it would have been better (If you killed me)

He hurt all over.   
It hurt.  
Pain was radiating everywhere, most from wounds he couldn't even see.  
His eyes squeezed shut as he tried to ignore the pain.  
Between Peter...doing what he had done he had also beat him, smacking his face, his ass, punching his stomach and using Stiles body for unsavory things.   
Now, even though it wasn't happening it was enough to make tears slide down his cheeks and into his hair.  
Now he was laying on a cement floor, eyes closed, where Peter had dropped him after...  
No! Stop thinking about that, his mind screamed.   
But he couldn't stop...he...he just...  
He felt like he was falling through the floor, falling into darkness, a darkness that stole all light, sound and air.   
He couldnt breath, he couldn't breathe at all...  
His eyes shut as his panic attack grew.  
Suddenly something exploded, showering him in dust and rock, he heard some smash into the wall.  
"Stiles?"  
Peter, it had to be.   
He didn't need that right now! He whimpered and curled into himself, waiting for a blow.  
"Stiles!" He was closer and Stiles felt any oxygen he had in his lungs leave.   
"Stiles! Stiles! Open your eyes, breathe!" The voice was panicking.  
Good, Stiles mind said, I hope he's panicking.  
"Stiles!" His face was grabbed and he whimpered as it pressed on sensitive bruises.  
"Stiles! It's me!" Peter. "Scott!" 

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Scott and Derek had worked tirelessly in their attempts at finding where Peter, and hopefully Stiles, were.   
Three days later they had found themselves in front of a lavish home, mansion? It was pretty big, with pillars and an all around creepy vibe to it...  
Derek had gotten the top two layers while Scott got the basement....why that was Scott didn't know.   
Stiles wasn't in the basement but he could smell him, god, he could smell him and...hear him? His head tilted to the side as he heard panicked breathing that sounded a lot like Stiles, smelled like Stiles too.  
"Stiles!" He yelled out following the sound only to be faced with a cement wall.  
He smacked it before putting the side of his face against it.   
Stiles!   
Stiles was...ln the other side.   
How could he get to him?   
His mind supplied the answer immediately.   
Break the wall.  
He punched it as hard as he could, wincing when he heard some of the chunks collide with the wall on the other side.   
But the second he saw Stiles he panicked even more.   
He could barely recognize him, his face was all hard angles, it hadn't been like that last time he had seem Stiles, had it?   
He was covered in buses and blood, curled up in the center, breathing deeply, having one of the worst panic attacks Scott had ever witnessed before.   
"Stiles!" He exclaimed, running to his side, but if anything Stiles only breathed faster, his heart beat loud and fast, so fast, it couldn't stay like that without giving in, could it?   
"Stiles! Stiles, open your eyes! Breathe!" He begged.  
Stiles curled in on himself even further.  
"Stiles!" He grabbed Stiles face, ignoring when his best friend, his brother whimpered. "Stiles! It's me! Scott"   
That was when Stiles turned violent.  
He got fingernails digging into his face and he winced, his skin already healing.  
"Stiles! Derek's here! DEREK!" Scott howled, hearing the alpha already running into the basement.  
"Stiles!" He felt more then saw Derek drop down beside him.  
"Stiles, please baby, calm down, open your eyes" Derek picked Stiles hand up and brought it to his face.  
"N...n..." Stiles tried to speak.  
"It's ok, Stiles, were gonna get you out of here."  
Stiles eyes opened, but instead of the beautiful brown they normally were they were blood red and angry.   
"LEAVE ME ALONE!" HE screamed and suddenly the two werewolf were thrown into the wall and saw nothing but black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So uh...yeah, Stiles spark is pretty violent, huh?   
> Again, give me your input, tell me what you want.   
> If you have any questions, go ahead and ask, I'll answer ASAP.


	6. bring me to life

Stiles was running down a country road, he had to get away, away from Peter, Scott and Derek...  
The last two especially.  
He hadnt...he didn't mean to but it just happened.  
He had gotten so angry, so fucking angry!  
And suddenly they were flying back, into a wall.  
He could remember a time when he would have stuck around, been the good boy he had been and apologized, maybe even let Derek or Scott throw him into a wall to get their revenge.  
Now? He was too scared, he couldn't deal with two angry wolves.  
When had he changed?  
When he'd been kicked out of his pack, a pack he had helped start, abandoned by his boyfriend and picked up by pedowolf.  
Oh...and there was the whole HE WAS SUPPOSED TO DIE part, too.  
He would have sighed but he was too out of breath from running.  
When he stopped he was in the middle of a forest, trees on all side of him, a familiar stump in front of him.  
The Nemeton.  
He stared at it for a moment before placing a cautious hand on it, brushing his thumb over the rings.  
A million year tree and one thing brought it to the weekend state it was in.  
Suddenly the tree surged around his hand, covering it in twiggy branches, green leaves already on them as they danced over and between his fingers.  
He calmed immediately, he felt...at home...happy...he was happy....and sleepy.  
He stepped onto the stump and lay down on his side, eyes drifting shut slowly ad the tree covered him, shielding him, protecting him, keeping him safe.  
Safe, a word he hadn't experienced since Scott was bit in this same forest.  
His nose wrinkled as he whimpered, that had been his fault, if he hadn't made Scott come with none of this would have ever...  
He calmed, feeling like the tree was pushing it into him.  
Letting out a contented sigh he fell into a deep sleep.

 

When he woke up his eyes were dark and his mouth was twisted into a cruel smirk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs listened to whilst writing this...  
> Play date - Melanie Martinez  
> Memories- Panic! At the disco  
> Carousel - Melanie Martinez  
> Everybody's watching me - The neighborhood 
> 
> Just in case y'all wanna know how awesome my music taste is...  
> And listen up, boos, I have taken all of the things you want to happen into my mind and am currently sifting through the 'kill' ones (AKA the ones Dean doesn't like) and the plant ones (AKA the ones Dean likes).  
> Now boos, any of y'all got snapchat? Coz I'm addin' y'all if you do!


	7. Crazy ( Phsyco) Love

Peter had always liked the Stilinski boy and when he finally had him...he couldnt stop himself.  
Stiles would understand, right? After all Peter had needs and...  
He walked into the hidden room through a small hidden staircase only to see a giant hole and the worthless Scott And Derek.  
The two who had made his beloved feel worthless and driven him to attempt suicide.  
He growled as he stepped into the other portion of the basement where they were unconscious (Of course he wasn't asking himself why).  
His fangs dropped, as did his claws, only then realizing the familiar and comforting sent of his beloved was fading.  
He whipped around to look were he had left Stiles only to see a small pool of blood.  
Where was Stiles?  
He growled, his eyes burning an angry blue and he grabbed his Nephew and the boy he had bitten so long ago by the back of the necks, dragging them upstairs and into a room he had specially made for werewolfs to be kept in. He had gotten the idea back when Boyd, Erica and his completely hated niece, Cora had been locked in the bank vault. Throwing them into the room he smiled at the painful positions they were in and slammed the door shut. He let his eyes bleed electric blue again and ran from the house, following the young boys sent until it just...disappeared. His head tilted similar to a dog, he knew Stiles would have mocked him had he saw him, and looked around. No Stiles. His wolf whimpered sadly, as did he as he began prowling around the area, searching for any trace if the boy. And them he saw it, a twisted branch, recently broken. He stepped closer and behind it was Stiles, blood covered but still beautiful Stiles. "Stiles..." Peter cooed bringing his hand to his cheek, it was cold and he frowned. "Stiles?" He brushed a hand over the boys pale face and got no response. "Stiles?" He said again, panic rising fast. "Stiles?" And that time he did get a response. Just not the one he had been expecting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yall know that problem when your gay and single but like...too nervous to ever ask anyone out?
> 
> What should happen in the next chapter?


	8. Burn It Down

Peter jumped back as Stiles arms shot up and out, some of the boys nails digging into Peters face.  
"Get away!" Stiles screamed, his voice cracking as he stared at Peter with wide, bloodshot eyes.

"Stiles..." Peter said soothingly as he stepped closer to the scared boy, he could hear the Stilinski boys heart doing double, and then triple, he knew the boys heart couldn't keep up with that for long.

"Stiles, you must calm yourself...." he warned.

"Get away! Leave me alone! Stiles screamed through his panted breaths as he fell to his knees, wrapping his arms around his torso and rocking slightly.

Peter began to panic himself, he knew that his boys heart was going too fast, so fast, oh...

He leapt forwards, seizing Stiles tightly and pulling him to his chest. "Calm down, Stiles" he said calmly. "No one will hurt you..."

The boy gasped in a breath, choking on it in his haste. "P...peter..."

"Shh, I'm here, calm. Can you do that for me? Breathe deeply...."

Stiles breathe slowed, almost below the typical for humans. 

"Good boy..." Peter smiled at the boy smugly, cradling his head in his neck. 

"Oh...o-oh g-god..." Stiles stuttered out, his breath hitching before stopping all together. 

"Stiles?" Peter asked, his eyebrows raising in concern as he turned to stare at the boy "Stiles?!" He shook the boy waiting for him to start breathing.

But he didnt.

-+-+-+-+-

He was alive. More alive then he had ever been, strong, stronger then anything he had ever known anything to ever be.

They were within him and they knew what they wanted to do.

They wanted to make everyone pay. 

-+-+-+-+-

 

Peter watched as Stiles eyes fixed in him blankly before flaring a bright green. "Stiles...?" He questioned, watching the boy worriedly.

 

"There is no Stiles" The boy responded, his words different, his s's stretched as though someone who was experimenting with words for the first time.

 

"Then what is there?" Peter asked, an idea already rising in his mind.

 

"There is only us. The Nemeton."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To anyone who doesn't know what this chapter is, the last paragraph is Stiles being controlled by the nemeton, don't worry, it's gonna (hopefully) be faster updating then before.

**Author's Note:**

> ***PLEASE READ INVOLVES UPDATES ON THIS STORY***  
> My sincerest apologies for the non existent schedule for when chapters will be published, in all honesty I do plan on continuing this story, just probably not this week, I've been severely depressed for the past month and typically I would respond to this depression by writing about it in my 'it's better to leave (then be replaced)' series but...it's don't really have a drive anymore.   
> I absolutely dispise when authors don't regularly update (especially when it's a good story, which this one isn't) so I do understand your frustrations and I'm hoping you'll be patient with me.   
> Have a good rest of your day!! Unicorns, rainbows, dead Trumps.


End file.
